


Hard to remember //Oneshot

by Wabbajackle



Series: Bendiduous the Demon [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Bendy and the dark revival
Genre: Awkwardness, Cartoon Physics, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Easter eggs and references to the main book (but completely functional stand-alone!), Falling In Love, Feeling unlovable and guilty, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Forbidden Love, Good Guy Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Interspecies Relationship(s), Love, Love Confessions, Maybe to make up for the emotional torture of the main book, More sappy than my usual works, Multi, Muteness, Romance oriented, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Shyness, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wabbajackle/pseuds/Wabbajackle
Summary: As a toon there was logic, and there was breaking it. He knew he could do certain things without the limitations of physics, but never were those things quite literally so physical until one accident that set something off and into motion.So went his heart, and it burst into a million pieces-- but it wasn't broken, just.. too much for his own good.
Relationships: Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine)/Reader
Series: Bendiduous the Demon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798642
Kudos: 27





	Hard to remember //Oneshot

Tin was the roof, roaring an ensemble of tissing snares on account of the unforecasted storm violently raging on outside. That left it just him and you, without real provisions in the wake of a power outage. Living off the grid with only a well used generator meant flickering lights, and the occasional clunk and moan from the heater stationed in the basement. You were a two hour drive away from the city on a day without traffic and without a storm, so that propper shopping trip was just gonna have to wait.

Still? You’d manage, even if it seemed everything hated you right now. That, you noted, while looking up from your frantic scramble for the door. There, framed like a picture was the silhouette of his shadow, cast in the dim light of a lantern left to sit in the living room. It must’ve been entertaining for him, the way the crosswind practically swept you away and attacked from all angles with a freezing spray, but you found it less amusing. Unfortunately, you had to go out and secure the car before anything undesirable happened to it, like a fallen tree or flood of the street-- both looking more and more possible with each worsening second.

Thank god you came in when you did. Looking over to the window, the finer, more permeating mist quickly morphed into fast bullets that whizzed through the air, exploding with loud booms. Its unfortunate victims were the surface of the window, and the concrete outside. Hopefully you’d be safe from the flooding, having both a floor above and floor below to get the worst of it. They padded both the ceiling and floor with an extra barrier, and the benefit of having an extra floor was that the noise from the roof got muffled.

Oh how it felt to live on the midground, safe from the proverbial devil in the basement and the backup devils upstairs. The ground floor had arguably the only literal demon out of all three floors, but he was sweet, so he didn’t show up in the count of how many you had in this poor weathering house.

Speaking of the not exactly devil, you felt his eyes on you. “What?” Said you, as if not sopping wet. ‘Course he had something to say about it, metaphorically speaking. Hah! Literally speaking metaphorically, because he was mute! But, that could go on forever, and you’d be stuck in a paradox over a silly, stupid thought, so you decided to leave it at that.

As if you knew anything about being stuck in a paradox. He was a mute, so until he could steady his writing hand enough to tell you, you’d go without knowing. Unfortunately he tried in his sketchbook, but the result was less than promising. It didn’t help that you were an amnesiac, but you had to go about his lack of communication in the most annoying way. You played a one sided game of charades, and you were losing it against yourself somehow. Most of the time you weren’t even close.

This was one of those times. His tail bobbed like a cat’s, flickering to the side. You glared at him, accusing finger raised as if he’d said something really sarcastic. “You sassin’ me bub?” His tail stilled and fell, playing dead, even though you knew he was just going to pick it right back up and flick it the moment you put your hand down. He wasn’t, but now he wanted to! He stretched out his neck, cocking his head with a widening smile.

_**Flick.** _

“Alright, that’s it, you’re gonna get it pal!” You glared, going to grab at it. He stiffened right up, much taller when he wasn’t slouching. You wouldn’t beat him, you didn’t have it in you! He knew this and stood his ground, a taunting smile. He may not have spoken words, but that teeth-clenching smile was more playfully angry than it was kind.

Fine! You’d do it just to spite him!

He jumped when you actually went through with it, the wet slap resonating in the relatively quiet living room. You’d shocked him into turning solid, his chest hardening and somewhat solidifying around your hand, trapping it inside. Right, heh, he was more the consistency of intelligent oobleck, and he found that condescendingly funny. So his chest rumbled, pricking against the pads of your fingertips and pinching them underneath the pressure. He knew full well what he was doing.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” The rumble in his chest only got stronger as he keeled over, doubling in soundless sniggering laughter. Only thing was, you knew what parts of him he couldn’t just liquify and harden at will, and you grinned a sinister grin, free hand going straight for the kill.

“Forget about this, smart aleck?” You hooked him by his bow, pulling him in like it was a collar. It wouldn’t come off unless he took it off, so he was bound to it at the moment. The rumbling against your palm hitched, and he actually looked kind of caught off guard, general gaze looking up.

A brief moment passed of intense staring, you glaring where his eyes would be though they were covered in previously leaked ink, and he rapidly mouthed words you couldn’t make out. He paused, attention flickering up, before he suddenly reeled back.

Between the two of you came into existence from absolutely nowhere-- a little scribbled heart.

.. _What_? You didn’t know he could do that? Well, judging by the way he practically jumped out of his skin, he had absolutely no clue either. At least your hand was free, but it was still covered in a goopy oozing black. You looked down at it, spreading your fingers with a small grimace, unsticking them.

And that was only the first, but it wouldn’t be the last. Unfortunately, they’d negatively affected your interactions since then. He’d cowered away from your touch after an accidental bump in the kitchen while heating a can of soup made a few more flutter into existence, and then he started avoiding looking at you for too long when he noticed it made his horns droop back, a grey dusting to his face. Again, more hearts on the floor.

You thought it was really sweet, thinking he was finally warming up to you after the initial animosity he’d expressed when you reunited, but you started to worry once you realized that each time he turned away, or retreated back into his room, the cute little scribbles wilted and tore down the middle.

So you were going to check on him. And boy, was it worse than you expected. He drooped as his fingers played the yellowed keys of his old piano keyboard, a bunch of sad, crumpled halves of scribble hearts dusting the floor like petals. His horn perked up, hearing the door creak open.. Then he accidentally hit a wrong note, scrunching his face at the sound.

“ _...Mind if I join you_?” You peeked around the doorframe, your nails tapping the wood. He seemed to stare at you for a second, before turning his attention back down to the keyboard. You took his lack of a response as an indifferent yes, and let yourself in.

Careful not to step on any, you rounded the edge of his bed, a hand picking up one of the halves. They felt like paper. Swiping a few of them off to make a spot for yourself to sit, you gave him some space, unsure of what all the broken hearts meant exactly. You had a brief idea, but shook it away. This was Bendy, he wouldn’t.

He continued on just as he had been before you entered, and you recognized the tune. Honestly, that was a fantastic episode, and it was mystifying that you took part in its creation. It did exceedingly well, and so did he, what a voice he used to have. He might not have been able to sing out loud, but you realized he was following along while moving his mouth. You inhaled, and sighed. It was a little sad that he’d lost his voice, but he was still just as charming somehow, curled around that old keyboard once again. Well, he was a little longer and lankier now, but it still undeniably brought back warm and pleasant memories.

“..You still got it, don’t you?” You smiled, listening to him play. That seemed to make him miss a beat, his finger twitching mid-shift.

No, no he didn’t. He wasn’t even close to what he used to be, and he hated it. In fact his name, the name you ultimately reminded him of, came from two words: Splendid, and Mellifluous. Didn’t you see? Without his voice, he couldn’t be Bendiduous, he couldn’t even be Bendy. He wasn’t a dancing or singing demon anymore, instead he was.. Just a monster, gross to look at, anything but limber, deformed.

He was so deformed he’d cut himself on glass shards just to get rid of his reflection. He understood Alice’s delusional conviction in wanting to fix herself, and for once he sympathised with her on something-- even if he ultimately was the cause of her physical imperfection. As for him, there was no way to undo what had been done after you disappeared, he’d become so unlovable that nobody would want to come back. You only did because whatever was behind his suffering, it wanted to taunt him.

You weren’t here by choice, in fact he knew you suppressed your disgust out of pity. You only loved him because of who he was before, meaning you had to, but it wasn’t real. You only saw him as a walking stain of neglect that you needed to make up for, not his.. Sickening humanity.

It was doomed from the start-- even back then, when he was cute and melodious, a joy to be around and not an eyesore, he was still a toon, and just that-- a toon. No one in their right mind would choose a four-foot round, simply drawn cartoon devil over a man that looked like.. That horrible man, Sammy Lawrence, or a woman that looked like Alice’s own human affliction, Suzie Campbell. Hell, he knew there were even prettier people than them, but still, he’d already lost the competition he wasn’t even qualified to enter. He was a children’s character, an icon, not a person.

He suddenly pushed the keyboard out of the way, his fingers twitching in a ruminating anger. He was just so.. Frustrated. Existence hated him, and he just couldn’t figure out why. On top of that, his face had started running, and it just made him angrier. He could try to tell you, but you wouldn't get it. You couldn’t read his toonish lips, you probably couldn’t even read another human’s, and he couldn’t spell it out for you since his hands were only good for slashing things apart. His writing hand.. His left hand..

His fists clenched, and in a flash he unsheathed his claws. It all happened in a single instant. “Bendy!”

If he couldn’t speak because he couldn’t make noise, he’d force himself to, the only way he knew how. He’d witnessed it in other living, dying creatures, why wouldn’t it work for him?

He started heaving, ink bleeding down his hand as he choked himself. Once you could hear his wheezes, he moved his lips again, using his crushed windpipe to make noise. He was… hurting himself to speak.

“ ** ~~ _I_~~**.”

You blinked, half panicking yet seeing what he was trying to do. It was still hurting him though!! He huffed more, out of breath. He was going to suffocate himself! Your hands flew up to try and tug his hand away, but it wouldn’t budge and instead he grabbed you by the wrists, his claws extending so that both could fit in one hand.

“ ~~ _ **L-ove**_~~.” You faltered, nervousness amplified. _Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say._

He used his hold on your wrist to pull you forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His chest labored, taking in big gasps of air, convulsing. He didn’t need to breathe exactly, but he still had functional lungs, and they did not like the feeling of being starved of air all the sudden.

He could still imagine it, the crushing dismissal of “ _I love you too_!!” said as a friend, a caretaker, and not the kind that he meant it in. He shook his head, lurching forward in pain at the idea. It was worse than the physical anguish of wringing his own neck. Still, he knew he had to say one more word, and it could finally be out, it could finally be over. Everything could reset, that force against him could laugh as it either drove you away, or sent you away. Nothing ever worked in his favor, not in the twenty years since you’d been gone. But you.. Say it, Bendy, one word! Don’t drag this out!

“.. ~~ _ **You!!**_~~ ” _Finally_. He convulsed in a series of twitches, unable to get away from his attacker, since his body didn’t register it was himself. It only knew it was under assault. What he didn’t know was if the fear in your eyes resulted from his words or his actions, but he was going to let himself finally calm down as he removed the nail dug into his esophagus.

Except, that fear of yours made you act on impulsion. You were a terrible person, a really terrible person for letting him get this damaged, and having the feelings you had, but you were past the time to stop and think, and though regret stung you immediately, his dripping wet hand flew to the nape of your neck, forcing your mouths to meet in the desperation left over from his hopeless confession. His mouth let out hot puffs of labored air over yours as he tilted his head, using his bottom lip to graze both of yours. You really did need to breathe, but you’d forsaken that need just to squeeze onto him with an ironclad grip. So _**this**_ was what a first kiss felt like.

He’d imagined it’d be short, sweet, and something he apologized for. That maybe it would happen after he ‘tripped’ over a crack in the floorboards, or after a cheeky, half-asleep nuzzle that ‘accidentally’ led to a brief contact with your lips. He never thought it would be you that leaning in first, and that made it all the more.. phenomenal.

For all the times he could have done it, times he underestimated the value of his voice, and the times he took his more desirable, softer, less menacing form for granted, he kissed you back. For the times that he woke up next to you, ate breakfast with you, was accepted by you, he kissed you back.

In spite of whatever fucking force working against you, the one that ripped you away from the studio and sent everything spiraling down, the one that turned him into a terrifyingly mangled monster without a voice even though your mouth flew to his as if it didn’t even matter, he _kissed you back_.

And just like that, the million little half hearts paired together, forming wings that danced weightlessly in the air, moths to a flame as they feathered over your skin.

-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`- -`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`- -`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

The vision faded away once he was interrupted, and yet, he wanted so desperately for it to stay, though it was already slipping, falling from the cracks of his cupped fingers like sand in an ocean of finely sized grains. He’d never have those same ones in his hold all together ever again. Still, there was you, and it was your voice that tugged him away from his distressed sifting through the sand he stood on.

Except it wasn’t pleasant, and probably not good on his poor unsuspecting heart.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He nearly shrieked out a whole line of profanities, jolting forward and losing his breath to the edge of the kitchen table. You were lucky his reflexes were so fast he could stop himself before he decked you. ~~ _‘Oh nothing, I was just transported into an entirely different universe for a moment, nothing much really.’_~~ Well, at least he didn’t knock over his mug. He would have been upset if he had to make another cup of coffee.

You snickered at his apparent disgruntlement, elbows propping your head up as you leaned over the table just at the side of him.

“Could’ja maybe not do that every time I space out?!” He shouted at you, taking an angry swig from his cup. You batted your eyes, playing dumb, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. He unclasped his tightly bawled fists, trying to untense.

What was he thinking about, again? Butterflies? Sand? It felt almost like a memory.. or maybe, almost.. a possibility? Something he wasn’t supposed to see? Whatever it was, something else was actively trying to make him forget it, regardless how hard he searched his mind and tried to bring the memory forth again.

Well, there was one lingering feeling. He touched his lips, they felt as if there was just a pressure over them. That brought a colour to his cheeks, no doubt. What he didn’t see was the little scribbled heart dissolving into his cup.

You in the meantime, were distracted. You thought you maybe caught a glimpse of something in the corner of your eye. Hopefully not another moth? You’d been seeing those a lot more recently, but they were gone as soon as you turned around. Hey, they better not be eating up your curtains! You liked them, and you hardly liked going anywhere that wasn’t the studio. It was a real hassle just to by groceries, to the point that every once in a while you paid Mr. Franks to do it for you. He was always kind, wasn’t he?

Bendy watched, not caring to ask why you went over and started messing with the curtains. He took another thoughtless swig, and suddenly, the liquid somehow tasted warmer.. Sweeter. He must’ve been imagining things. What was he thinking about? Oh, _he’d already forgotten_.

One of these days, he was going to remember his daydreams.

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't updated the main book because I had a few ideas for oneshots, but I promise, I won't write another for a while. I should be focusing on the book! I have to get through it as my messy test project, before I start the one I have planned next! 
> 
> Anyways, I think you can probably tell how bad I am at short stories. Or cutesy stuff in general. Yeah... sorry about that.
> 
> It's technically a stand alone, and not exactly completely canonical to the book, but eh, you can believe if you want to! This one corresponds with chapter 4 (which is not out at the time of this one shot's release I'm sorry ;;;)
> 
> ....I wonder what its hinting at, eh?


End file.
